Afterthoughts and After Hours
by MarauderV
Summary: Post X3. It seems that humans and mutants can finally live in peace. The cure is optional and there are mutants in Congress. The younger Xmen can finally be themselves again, and leave battle behind. But all good things come to an end.
1. A New Beginning

**Disclaimer:** I own only my characters. Obviously. They aren't all listed because some of them are coming into existence as I write, but Seraphim is mine. Everyone else is not. :)

**Summary/info:** To clear up any confusion about my character. Seraphim was a product of fiddling around when the first Xmen came out, when I still only had Xmen background from watching the sweet 90s cartoon (yeeeeeesss!) on Saturday mornings. So. I didn't really know that Archangel actually existed at that point, so Seraphim is **NOT**, I repeat, is **NOT** a copy of Archangel/Warren Worthington. She was never meant to be. As for her powers: she contains dozens of strands of animal DNA within her own genetic code. She can isolate a specific animal to become, or a specific attribute of an animal to use on her human person, hence why her wings are literally "retractable" and can retreat back into her flesh. If you have any other questions feel free to ask. This is set after Jean's actual death, as the first two sentences make clear. :)

**Pairings:** Rogue/Bobby & others to be revealed:)

Hope you have fun reading. I had fun writing.

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People liked to pretend that everything was okay now. Now that Jean was gone and Magneto was no longer a threat. People liked to pretend that because the Golden Gate Bridge was being rebuilt and that all the "bad" mutants had been "cured" that everything would go back to normal. Like mutants never existed. Or that they were just something odd. Like a birthmark or a scar. Something you stare at for a little bit, and then get used to after awhile. She wasn't going to get used to it. It was impossible to ignore. 

They'd weaponized that thing they called a "cure." She knew it couldn't be. You can't fix something that isn't broken.

Seraphim ran a hand through her hair as she sat, balanced on a stone railing of the balcony that overlooked the grand campus of Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The late Charles Xavier. Seraphim had shed many tears on that subject. He'd been like a father to Seraphim; The first one to tell her that her wings were beautiful and not ugly, or scary, or wrong. The first one to smile at her with love. It was also hard to ignore that Jean Grey had been the one to take him from the world.

And then there was the matter of which side to choose. The Professor instilled ethics in her. Seraphim knew what Eric was doing was wrong. She knew John had chosen the wrong person to look up to. But at the same time, she could understand. Eric was a holocaust survivor. He knew what it was like to be treated as less than human. Now he was out to prevent history from repeating itself in his lifetime. As all idealistic theories turn out to be, Eric's plan was noble, but the ways in which he carried it out were horrendous. They did more to hurt the movement than help it. And now, it had destroyed him.

The wind was soft. It trickled through her hair like dancing fingers and Seraphim gave an involuntary shiver. Her feathers ruffled in the breeze. She gave a very bird-like twitch of her wings and stretched them to their full length, an impressive fifteen feet. She used to hide them, pull them back inside her. Now, especially since meeting Warren, she'd returned to keeping them out. He didn't have a choice. She did. So she made the right one. They'd hit it off right away, Seraphim and Warren. The younger kids had taken to calling him Angel. That was his X-name now. He'd asked her what her real name was, and she told him she didn't have one. He was surprised at first. But they were good friends after that. Routinely flying together, training together, talking about almost everything. He confided in her that he really, really liked Kitty Pryde. Seraphim smiled. They'd have to talk about that. Warren wasn't too good with girls, despite his blonde hair, blue eyes, and astonishing good looks. Seraphim chuckled. She fell in love with him the moment they met, but in a completely different way. She knew she'd found someone who would understand her inside and out from that day forward, without having to be intimate with him. Warren was her best friend. Bobby might've been a little miffed at that.

"Aren't you cold?"

Seraphim started. She turned her head to look at the intruder with one purple eye. "You scared me!"

Piotr smiled. "Sorry. What're you doing out here by yourself?"

"Thinking."

He walked up next to her, touching her wings lightly, with the air of someone stroking something breakable.

"That tickles," she giggled, spinning off the railing to push him in the chest. Piotr chuckled and wrapped her in his strong hug. Another best friend, someone she longed to be more with. Everything had been so crazy.

"We're watching a movie, you want to join us?" he asked, looking down at her. Seraphim wasn't short, but Piotr was tall. It wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway.

"Mmmm, what're we watching?" she asked as they walked inside and shut the window-paneled doors behind them to keep the cool evening outside where it belonged.

"Some sci-fi flick," said Piotr, shrugging. "I don't know, something that'll scare Rogue so she'll be attached to Bobby the whole time."

Seraphim laughed a silvery laugh. "Tactful of him."

"There she is, our little recluse!" said Bobby from the large couch in the entertainment room.

"Hello to you, too."

They'd adapted well, teenagers that they were. Warren was probably the best off, despite the fact that his father had tried to force the cure into him. Warren smiled at Seraphim as she sat down between him and Piotr. Piotr always had to sit in the middle of the couch, otherwise it'd tip over. That always made Seraphim laugh. Kitty sat next to Rogue, and Bobby next to his handsome girl. Seraphim had always loved Rogue's Louisiana accent. It was too beautiful to be called a drawl, a word that sounded a lot more like "drool" than anything Seraphim had ever heard. Looking down at Rogue's thigh, Seraphim happily noted that she and Bobby were holding hands, and Rogue was not wearing gloves. She smiled. Rogue had taken the cure, and no one blamed her.

The movie cast a flickering bluish-white light on the group, highlighting faces, expressions, eyes. Seraphim curled between Warren's wings and Piotr's massive arm. She didn't really pay attention to the movie, instead laughing and cracking jokes at how horrible the acting was. The couch shook with the laughter of the six youths. One by one their eyelids drooped and the girls fell asleep against the student next to them. Bobby and Rogue were too preoccupied to fall asleep. Seraphim was somewhat of a nightowl, but snuggled betwixt warm bodies, one can hardly expect to stay awake, especially for a bad horror movie.

It was never a pleasant sleep.

_"Blackhawk..."_

Seraphim woke with a start, and Piotr's face was leaning down at her forehead, peering curiously as beads of sweat broke out over her skin. Her eyes fluttered in the darkness. The movie was off and the TV was that garish blue color that always came on after the player was turned off. She shivered.

"Pete?"

"You were talking again," he said quietly.

"What?" Seraphim blinked rapidly and shifted to look up at him.

"Talking. You talk in your sleep. You keep muttering random shit," he said. Soft breathing beside them gave the quiet announcement that everyone else was asleep. "You dreaming about Alkali?"

"In a way," she murmured. "I'm sorry to have woken you. What time is it, Pete?"

"Midnight." His voice was dark and low. Invisible, except for the fact that his arm was around her. Seraphim's night vision was starting to kick in. Sometimes she just wanted it to stay black. His face was now outlined in a liquid-purple light. His eyes were the same color. "Tired?"

"Yeah. I think I'll kip on the other couch, I'm squished," she replied, chuckling. "Warren's getting fat."

Piotr laughed and lifted Seraphim from the cushions. Her feet brushed the ground and she found her footing again, but her head still wasn't in the right place. The night, his smell, her heart. They pulled blankets from the closet and moved over to the second of three couches in the room. Seraphim lay with her back against Piotr, tucked securely beneath two blankets. His arm draped around her. In any other situation, something like this, she thought, was bound to lead to something, if not all-out, hormonally-crazed sex. But Seraphim just closed her eyes and sighed. She would not dream again tonight.

Storm opened curtains throughout the main floor of the mansion, letting the sunlight stream in as it illuminated a sleepy Saturday morning. A low static hum caught her attention; maybe Jones left the tv on again. He didn't sleep, but sometimes he managed to doze off in the early morning hours. Upon striding into the entertainment room, Storm let her jaw drop in amused surprise. Six of the oldest students, her best students, lay sound asleep on the couches, or, on each other, rather. She strode around the room softly, her eyebrows furrowed curiously as she observed the sleeping youths. Piotr, called Colossus by many of the teachers, lay peacefully beneath a blanket with Seraphim, the winged changeling. They were nearly inseparable, even in sleep, it seemed. As expected, Bobby and Rogue held each other at one end of the largest couch. Storm had fought the idea of a "cure" fiercely, but she understood why Rogue had taken such a drastic measure. Love was a powerful thing. Her eyes turned curiously to the opposite end of the couch. Kitty Pryde lay sidled against Warren Worthington, one of the newest students since Xavier's death. His left wing was wrapped around her shoulder. Storm raised her eyebrows and tapped her foot, inwardly battling whether to wake them up and lecture them on curfew, or to let it go. After all they'd been through, it made sense that they would look to each other. These six had been through the worst of it. Warren was still new, but the other five…had seen too much battle already. Storm sighed. Punishment would have to wait for another day. There was breakfast for three hundred hungry children to make.


	2. This Side of the Atlantic

**Thanks for the reviews. Maybe I'll get more after this...kind of a long chapter. So enjoy!**

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Hushed, raspy whispers woke Seraphim. Her hearing was far too sensitive. Her purple eyes opened slowly, and flesh-colored blobs swam into her vision. The little girl standing nose-to-nose with her yelped with a high-pitched giggle and scampered away, her tail swinging behind her. This outburst woke every sleeper in the room.

Kitty sighed as all contented sleepers do, her eyes fluttering open reluctantly and meeting very suddenly with Warren's bright blue ones. He smiled sheepishly and moved his wing so she could sit up. She smiled, equally sheepish.

"You're a good pillow," she said quietly.

Warren continued to smile. He had absolutely no idea how to respond. "I try."

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ He cursed internally.

Kitty laughed, brushing her hair off to the side subconsciously. "I must look like hell," she muttered, rolling her eyes as the smallest mutants bounced around the room and onto the couch, turning the TV to cartoons and shrieking with delight. Warren gazed at Kitty, despite the distractions.

"Nah, you look…wonderful," he said. She looked surprised. "Pretty seemed like such a mundane word."

"You're sweet," she replied congenially. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Sure." Warren nodded, still slightly awestruck as she walked away. He whipped about, looking for Seraphim. She was propped up on her elbow with Piotr's chin on her shoulder. They were talking animatedly and laughing. Warren decided he'd interrupt them later. He stood and flapped his wings, brushing the heads of the children gathered on the floor. They cooed happily. A few grabbed at his feathers, and he folded his wings out of reach, shaking his head.

"Angel, when're you giving rides again?" a boy with blue hair asked.

"Maybe later today, Joey," said Warren. He wandered off to shower and change clothes.

One of the boys changed the channel to one of the superhero shows and Bobby smiled. "I used to watch those all the time when I was a kid," he said to Rogue as she leaned on his shoulder. "I always wanted to be like those guys."

"Now you are," she said quietly. "I've got a superhero for a boyfriend."

He chuckled and kissed her cheek, making her giggle. She'd been so much happier since she'd taken the cure. They'd been so much happier. She wasn't so upset all the time about not being able to touch Bobby. They didn't need to touch all the time either. But it was those kisses, the hugs, the cuddling that made Rogue so content. It made her feel more loved than she'd ever known. Bobby was glad that they were all right again, but it was a huge sacrifice he'd never wanted her to take, giving up her powers. He put his arm around her, watching the bright colors and cartoon explosions on the television. Everything was as normal as it could be, for now. The school year had started smoothly with a larger enrollment than the school had ever had. New staff had come on as well. It was a new family, building onto the old. Bobby frowned a little. He'd never forgotten his old family. Mom, Dad, Ronnie. They'd all turned on him because of what he was, who he was with. That wasn't the kind of world they'd told him about. Those weren't the actions they'd told him to perpetuate when he left them. Now he had Rogue, and Kitty and Piotr and Seraphim and Warren. They were good friends. He was still getting to know Warren, but the winged wonders had bonded instantly, so there wasn't much gray area about Warren in Bobby's mind. Rogue's fingers laced with Bobby's and she sighed contentedly.

"Thanks Bobby."

"For what, baby?"

"For loving me even though we couldn't be together. I'm sorry about what I said before I left. I didn't mean it."

"Good. You had me worried." Bobby smiled, his icy blue eyes twinkling with laughter.

Seraphim was laughing, shaking the couch with her laughter as her eyes crinkled with amusement. Piotr smiled and tickled her. She shrieked and rolled off the couch.

"What're you so giggly about?" he asked, throwing the blanket on her and sitting up to stretch. Some of the elementary-aged children were clambering over Seraphim and under the blanket. She wrapped two of them up in the blanket and rolled them away.

"Now you're two little enchiladas, hijas, que lo paso?" she said, laughing. She stretched as well, her wings sliding out of her shoulders and stretching to their full length, mimicking Warren a few minutes before. She flapped them lazily and then folded them.

"Mmm, Saturday, Pete. What mischief shall we make?" she asked, grinning impishly.

"That depends on how many kids you want to toss off the roof, Sera," he chuckled as he folded the blankets.

Seraphim's eyes twinkled. "I'll go wake up Aubrey," she said, her grin widening.

"She'll shock the daylights out of you if you do," Piotr warned. "Then again, not like you haven't done it before…"

"Exactly!" she shouted. "And you keep forgetting. I can absorb her electricity, that silly girl."

Piotr towered over her, one eyebrow raised amusedly. "And why is that?"

"Electric eel," she said happily, and she shocked him with a flick of her finger before taking off upstairs, the hallways ringing with laughter.

Seraphim paid little heed to whether Piotr had followed her or not, and made a beeline for the room she shared with Aubrey, shoving the door open and flinging herself unceremoniously onto the sleeping girl's bed.

"AUBREY! WAKEY WAKEY!"

A muffled shriek came from the bed, and a girl with brown hair shocked bright blonde at the bottom shot up as Seraphim landed next to her. Furious and still groggy, Aubrey grabbed her arm, intending to give Seraphim a severe jolt. But Seraphim only laughed and felt a warm, vibrating sensation instead. Aubrey frowned and then glared, sitting cross-legged in her bed.

"I hate you!"

"Aw, no you don't."

"I do! I hate you and your ebullient morning attitude!" she snapped, throwing a ball of crackling electricity at Seraphim's right wing. The smell of burning feathers permeated the room and Seraphim preened with a strange expression on her face as Aubrey cackled.

"Why're you laughing? Our room smells funny now!" Seraphim pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Good point," Aubrey said suddenly. She threw a soccer ball at the door to close it and pulled out a random outfit, mussing her hair lazily. "Where were you last night, hmm? I came back from and poof, my roomie had disappeared! I almost ate the éclair I brought back for you," she continued, drawing a paper bag out of their minifridge.

"I'm glad you love me too much to hurt me like that," said Seraphim, eyeing the pastry and reaching out.

"Not so fast, you delinquent. Where were you all night, eh? And why the hell are you up so early?"

"Uh, well. You know how those kids are with their cartoons in the morning," said Seraphim, raising her eyebrows.

"And what were you doing downstairs?" Aubrey asked as she pulled on the bright yellow Batman shirt on and buckled her jeans.

"Fell asleep watching a movie," Seraphim replied, throwing a pair of slippers at Aubrey as she groped underneath her bed, looking for the items.

"Thanks." Aubrey stretched. Seraphim's eyebrow bounced. That seemed to be a theme this morning. She flapped her wings and linked arms with her disgruntled companion, receiving a prompt and playful shove. Seraphim laughed and dodged around a tween in the hallway, threading her arm through Aubrey's yet again. This time she remained unscathed.

"Fell asleep, eh? All by your lonesome?" Aubrey said lightly, turning her head and throwing an appreciative glance as Piotr walked down an adjacent hallway to his own dormitory. "Mmm-hmm. I forgot, didn't I? It was couples' movie night," she continued, giggling.

"I'm sorry, what?" Seraphim raised an eyebrow at her.

"You have the hottest best friend this side of the Atlantic, my dear," she said, shaking her head. "Me, of course, but he's up there too."

"Oh, shove it. You know it's platonic," Seraphim replied. She tossed her hair from her eyes. "It'd be awkward any other way." She said it more to convince herself than anybody else.

Aubrey unhooked her arm as they came into the kitchen, shaking her head. "The more you say that, the less it's true. Besides, I wouldn't be the only one relieved you two finally hooked up."

Seraphim let her jaw drop comically as Aubrey's eyes twinkled over the cup of lemonade she was drinking. Seraphim wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I don't know. Toss me a bagel please? And the cream cheese?"

Both items came flying at her from behind the refrigerator door. She caught both deftly in each hand, smirking as she prepared a modest breakfast. As she leaned over the bagel, the dog tags around her neck shifted and jingled.

"You still wearing those damn things?" Logan walked into the room with his usual saunter, his voice teetering between friendly and defensive. He squeezed Seraphim's shoulder as he walked by. "Ain't good for you, kid, holding on to bad memories."

"Good morning, Logan!" Aubrey chimed from the opposite counter, grinning in a silly manner before shooting him a glare. "Don't spoil a Saturday morning with depressing talk. It's already spoiled, being morning." She took a decisive chunk out of her toast and chewed purposefully.

Logan eyed the teenager for a moment and then returned his attention to Seraphim. "Why are you still wearing them?"

"Because learning why they're there doesn't make me hate them like you do," she said softly. "You're okay with everything now, aren't you? I'm not quite there yet. Can we talk about this later?"

Logan stared at Seraphim. She stared right back. Brown eyes bored into blue and Aubrey shifted uncomfortably on the counter, feeling distinctly irrelevant. All of a sudden Sera smiled widely, chuckling.

"You're so mean in the mornings," she said, laughing. Logan was caught off-guard, and the glare fell from his face almost immediately.

"I guess I am. But you're cheeky," he said grudgingly, opening a beer.

"Oh, Logan!" Seraphim scoffed, throwing her head sideways and wrinkling her nose.

"Well, that was intense. Shall we retire to the veranda, Miss Featherface?" Aubrey said snootily from her perch. She crunched the last of her toast and hopped down from the counter, brushing her hands off on her pants. "By your leave, of course."

"You little – " Seraphim swung at her. Logan watched them, half-smiling. As they scampered out of the kitchen, Logan called out.

"Talk to you later, kid."

Seraphim stuck her head back in the kitchen as Aubrey pulled on her wings. "Sure thing – OUCH! YOU JERK!"

"Well, stop taking so long!"

"Where are we going?"

Aubrey smiled and picked up a bag that seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Outside in the nice fresh air. And we're going to listen to music and pretend we're five years old, except we're going to talk about more interesting things than Barbies."

Seraphim frowned. "You never played with Barbies."

"Exactly."

So for the rest of the morning they sat beneath a large oak tree on the edge of the vast Xavier property, shaded from the morning sun and cool enough to get goosebumps on their arms. They talked, sometimes leaving a few seconds of silence to savor the scene around them, where they were, the freedom they had. Saturdays were nice at Xavier's school. Lazy, uneventful. Often times to just bond or goof around. As they day progressed and the sun moved, the younger kids came out to play on the lawn, bringing all sorts of balls, frisbees, and toys to do so with. Shaded as they were, the children didn't notice the two teens in the trees.

"So how's Warren getting along with his little, ah, predicament?" Aubrey asked tactfully.

Seraphim sighed. "Well, he broke the ice, to say the least, considering she slept on him," she replied. "I imagine he's been trying to find me all morning to ask me what to do."

The girls laughed and Seraphim skipped the song they had been listening to on Aubrey's ipod to one she preferred.

"Finish your calculus?"

Seraphim wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, but I still don't get some of the stuff. Derivatives I get, but backwards? Ugh."

"They're not so bad once you get the hang of it," Aubrey shrugged.

"That's such a lame answer! Nothing's bad once you get the hang of it," Seraphim scoffed. She tossed her head and repositioned herself on the grass. "But it's only October I guess. Haven't really gotten too anything nasty so far."

"I can't seem to concentrate very well in philosophy anymore, Sera," said Aubrey quietly. She turned her brown eyes to Seraphim's purple ones. Seraphim frowned.

"I know what you mean. It's hard moving on, Aub. No one ever really prepared us for something like this," she said, looking skyward. "To have to take over so soon."

"At least you're trusted with the missions," Aubrey replied bitterly. "Apparently I still can't control my powers."

"It's not that you can't control them," said Seraphim, turning to gaze at her friend. "It's that Storm doesn't feel she's ready to put you in that position yet. Besides, it's a whole 'nother area to stress you out, it's not like it's some sweet secret club. Not like people would sign up to die, Aub. So don't tell me you want that."

"You know that's not what I mean," Aubrey said, twisting a bunch of grass until it broke.

"I know. But that is the hazard of missions," Seraphim replied, keeping eye contact. "Storm will tell you when you're ready. Or you could talk to her."

Aubrey shrugged. "I just want to help. Besides, Rogue doesn't have her powers anymore, you're one short!"

"Talk to Storm," Seraphim repeated. She let the sounds of the yard play hang in the air for a minute. "You'd have to fight John."

"You think that matters to me?" Aubrey said sharply.

Seraphim rounded on her friend. "What a stupid question! Of course I think it matters to you, don't even pretend it doesn't!" They stared at each other for a moment before Aubrey relinquished her gaze. "Aub, you've never done it before. You haven't had to bet your life on someone else's actions, much less your own. Training doesn't prepare you for facing someone you love."

"Loved," Aubrey corrected quickly. "And I don't even know if it qualified."

"I thought you were cute," Seraphim said quietly. "You were really good for him."

"I don't like you right now." Aubrey hugged her knees to her chest.

"Aub, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get you to understand that joining the team isn't just about being good enough," she said exasperatedly. She felt rather bad for bringing John up. Aubrey was looking rather stormy now.

"Forget I brought it up."

A frisbee came out of nowhere, heading straight for Aubrey's head. Jones yelled from the lawn.

"HEADS!"

Aubrey shrieked and Seraphim ducked. A snap and crackle later, Aubrey was cringing at the partially-melted Frisbee laying on the grass in front of her. She looked up at Jones as he came running over.

"Sorry, Aubrey!" he said, pushing his glasses up. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I think I fried your Frisbee, Jonesy," she said, frowning as she held the lopsided toy. Jones blinked a few times.

"Um…"

"I got it!" A fourteen year old boy came jogging over and grabbed the Frisbee, rubbing the disfigured part of the Frisbee. After a few seconds he was able to mold the plastic back into the original shape. He beamed and handed it back to Jones.

"Hot hands," said Seraphim, giggling. "Bet those are nice. Just imagine Aubrey, you'd never be cold again!"

Aubrey laughed, breaking the sour mood that had been wafting around the pair for the last few minutes. Seraphim smiled and pounded fists with the teen who had fixed the Frisbee.

"Thanks man."

"No problem."

Seraphim leaned back against the tree and watched Aubrey's smiling face as she watched the children on the lawn. Like anybody at Xavier's school, Aubrey hadn't had a very pleasant experience with the outside world because of her mutant status. She was a fantastic high school swimmer and an Olympic hopeful until her powers manifested. She was in a pool when she unknowingly sent a surge of electricity through the water, shocking the rest of the competitors and sending the crowd into a panic. She'd been picked up by Storm and Scott a few hours later, and she'd been at Xavier's school ever since. Now the pair, along with the rest of their friends, were in their senior year of high school. It had been four intense and tragic years. The school had grown to around 500 students now; the senior class was just over 100 and the largest in the school's history. Graduation was still months away, but Seraphim couldn't help wondering what they would all do when that day came to leave the school. She'd always felt so safe. Seraphim knew little to nothing about her past. She had no memories beyond a few flashes at the age of 13. Things were fuzzy from 13 to 15, filled with a lot of pain and loneliness. And then she'd been taken to Xavier. He'd helped her, healed her, like he healed many children who came to the school. Now it was almost time for them to leave. Facing the real world would be a challenge for everyone.


End file.
